The Thorn and the Rose

The Thorn and the Rose. Two creative expressions of the same plant.

My Song

Past slow streams and paddy plains,
A gentle breeze, the drizzling rain;
A blue-bird tries catch-up in vain,
To a soulful beat, my rocking train

Chasing mirages

Waiting for the night to wake up to a dawn,
For the morning mist to make dew with the lawn,
To glimpse the chirping thrush, strut…

Frames

Oh, these frames on our walls,
Windows into worlds beyond.
Snapshots in time, of our thoughts,
Raindrops in oceans of droughts.
Of tales that…

It could’ve been me

Four women,
And a girl barely ten, 
Scavenged for the leftovers, 
Behind the butcher’s shop,
While I paid for the choicest…

Sing a song instead

They say: love trumps hate and that music is the food of love.

My little light

The fickle flame that licks the wick,
If left untamed could char it quick.

Er…

Earth’s warmer,
People colder.
Compassion rarer,
Crimes bolder.
Love’s in a corner,
Hate running over.

The Dirt and the Tree

They kept digging up the Dirt around the old Tree,

Life trips!

My worst foe and my best friend,